


christmas cookies

by liddie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 19:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17147765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liddie/pseuds/liddie
Summary: Lance's eyes catch on the mark on his wrist, skin dusted with flour. Two blooming camellia flowers are inked there like a tattoo, the dark lines of the layered, heart-shaped petals standing out against his skin. They lack color at the moment, a perfect outline waiting to be filled in.He had waited a long time for his mark to fill in.





	christmas cookies

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift for @lionfromthestar for the Shance Secret Santa 2018 exchange! I had a lot of fun and tried to combine your prompts, so I hope you like it! Thanks a bunch to the mods for organizing this event!!

 

**Camellia** \- _These impressive, lush flowers were beloved by the Victorians, and were given the meaning "my destiny is in your hands."_

**Anemone** \- _These quirky blooms take their name from the Greek word for wind (anemos) since their lives are so short. The Victorians offered anemones the meaning "forsaken."_

 

* * *

 

Pressing the cookie cutter down onto the dough Lance then lifts it up and repeats the process three more times. Once the shapes have taken up the entirety of the rolled dough he carefully peels the excess away, sliding his spatula beneath the shapes and lifting them onto a baking tray.

The gingerbread men look perfect, all lined up and ready to be popped into the oven.

Without more dough to roll and cut Lance sets the spatula down and stretches, lifting his arms up overhead and rolling up onto his toes. With a happy sigh he lowers his arms, looking at the powdery white that tracks all the way up to his elbows.

Lance's eyes catch on the mark on his wrist, skin dusted with flour. Two blooming camellia flowers are inked there like a tattoo, the dark lines of the layered, heart-shaped petals standing out against his skin. They lack color at the moment, a perfect outline waiting to be filled in.

He had waited a long time for his mark to fill in.

The timer goes off and pulls Lance from his thoughts. Sliding on a pair of bedazzled oven mitts he pulls out a sheet of perfectly done cookies and sets them aside. The warm scent of fresh baked goods fills the tiny kitchen and Lance hums, grabbing the second tray and sliding it into the oven.

Pulling off the oven mitts Lance sets them on the counter. “Sixteen minutes,” he says to himself and starts the timer.

Turning his gaze to the messy kitchen he sighs. “I love cookies but the baking process does not love me. I don't know how Hunk can keep his kitchen clean.”

Warm arms slip around Lance's middle and a cold nose presses against the back of his neck. “Hunk is a professional,” Shiro says against his skin.

Lance leans back into the embrace, gesturing to the counter with one hand. “Are you saying these cookies aren't professional quality?” Shiro blows a raspberry against Lance's neck and the younger man laughs, squirming in the warm hold. “Shiro!”

Leaning back Lance turns in the circle of Shiro's arms, grinning at his boyfriend and lifting his hands to link behind Shiro's neck. From the corner of his eye he sees the tattoo on his wrist has bloomed with vivid hues of purple and blue.

The sight of it warms his heart and he pulls Shiro down for a kiss.

“Cookies smell good,” Shiro mumbles against his lips and Lance pulls back, hands sliding down to rest on Shiro's chest. “Can't we just eat some plain?”

Lance gasps in mock-shock. “You heathen! Everyone knows they taste better with frosting on them. And they look prettier, too!” Lance moves his hands to Shiro's shoulders, fingers trailing in the air above his arms and moving downward, dancing over warm skin and ridges of scar tissue. He pauses at the elbow, tipping his chin back so he can smile up at Shiro when his hands make contact.

After a moment lines begin to appear on the dull, cool metal of Shiro's prosthetic, darkening with each second Lance's hands remain in place. The mark forms slower than a person's color usually fills in, first an outline appearing and then filling in like sand falling within an hourglass.

The petals of Shiro's mark bloom in the color of moonlight, the pale white spreading within the lines from tips to the dark centers. When the anemones are in full bloom Lance slides his hands down to link his fingers with Shiro's and leans in for another kiss.

When he pulls back Lance squeezes Shiro's hands before letting go of one of them. “So, come look at the masterpieces. I made gingerbread and cut-out cookies that we can decorate once they've cooled!”

Lance shows off his creations, lifting one of the cooled cut-out cookies up to Shiro's mouth and watching him take a bite. Shiro chews thoughtfully before swallowing. “Perfect,” he agrees with a nod. “But I think I need another bite just to be sure.”

Offering up the last of the cookie Lance grins. He looks around Shiro at the bag sitting on the end of the counter. “Was the mission a success?”

Shiro smiles like a kid on Christmas. “I got one of every holiday sprinkle they had.” Reaching over for the bag Shiro drags it closer and begins pulling out the small bottles of sprinkles, colored sanding sugar and nonpareils. He sets them in a line on the counter top. “And some cinnamon hearts, these golden star sprinkles aaaand..” With a flourish Shiro holds up three packages of colored icing. “These babies.”

Lance surveys the purchases with a critical eye, then nods. “You've done well on your mission.”

“We're going to have the best cookies at the exchange,” Shiro says, lifting a hand up and making a fist before he pulls it down with a sharp jerk. “The others won't know what hit them.”

“Easy there, tiger.” Leaning in Lance presses a kiss to Shiro's cheek. His thumb slides along the inked flower on Shiro's wrist in a familiar gesture. “I like your enthusiasm, though. So let's get started!”

Lance pulls away to ready the cut-outs that are cooled and waiting to be frosted but Shiro tugs their joined hands and reels Lance back in against his chest. “Wait a sec.”

“Shiro,” Lance laughs, looking up at the older man. Shiro lifts Lance's hand up and presses a light kiss to the tattoo across his wrist.

“I love you,” Shiro says simply and Lance's heart swells in his chest. He clutches it over his apron and goes limp, Shiro laughing as he easily catches Lance's weight.

“That was too cute, I can't go on,” Lance is saying dramatically, Shiro scooping him up into a princess carry. Lifting a hand Lance places it on his forehead like a swooning damsel. “My hero.”

“My Prince.” Shiro carries Lance out of the kitchen and into the living room, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against Lance's before dropping him over the back of the couch. Lance lets out an oomph as he lands on the soft cushions and looks up to see Shiro grinning above him. “I'm going to eat the gingerbread men without frosting,” Shiro blurts out before dashing back into the kitchen.

Lance jolts up and scrambles to vault over the back of the couch, his laugh echoing in their overly decorated apartment. “Shiro! Get back here!”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://kuroshiroganee.tumblr.com/) and [twitter!](https://twitter.com/Kuroshiroganee)


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